


His

by chii



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chii/pseuds/chii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're idiots-- they're all idiots, but anymore, they're his idiots, and Carolina doesn't get to point a gun at them. [ Spoilers for the last episode.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	His

**Author's Note:**

> posted from my [tumblr!](http://chiiwritesshit.tumblr.com/post/33203420305/fic-post-his-spoilers)

He’d known it would come to this. He’s not the naive little Freelancer he used to be, he had known that it would come to this. Things would end up where they’d have to pick sides and have to choose and Wash should have known that it wouldn’t be something easy, something that’s just a talk.

No, instead, Carolina goes off and Wash feels something jerk inside him when she raises her gun.

No. He’s so tired of this, he’s tired of all of this but most of all he’s tired of all of them being dragged behind he and Carolina, when he knows how they feel about this.

They’re idiots— Jesus, god, they’re stubborn and he wants to strangle them half the time, but they’re his idiots. This isn’t like in Freelancer, with people twisting and turning on each other, all trying to be the best. It hasn’t been about that in a long, long time. He’ll follow them where he can, too, and he’ll follow Carolina a lot of places but not here. Not like this. He’s gone a lot of goddamn dark places, but not like this.

The standoff ends, and his finger slips off the trigger, the sick feeling in his gut intensifying when he realizes what he’d done. You don’t ever put your finger on the trigger, not unless you’re prepared to shoot. And right then. Right then, with her aiming her gun at them, he was ready. Wash doesn’t want to think about the consequences to that, not right now.

Caboose lingers the longest, it feels like, just staring at Carolina and Epsilon, and he goes, too, leaving them standing there, with Alpha a faint flicker above Carolina’s shoulder. “Forget it, Church. We don’t need them.”

Washington doesn’t move, he just stares at her for a moment, trying to reconcile what he’s hearing and seeing with what he remembers. He remembers Carolina, remembers her fighting for her team after they’d been injured, remembers the little things she’d do that weren’t outwardly possessive but that made them all still know they were part of her team. He remembers that, remembers feeling like she had his back but lately—

Time changes people he supposes, and doesn’t want to think about the implications of that turned back on himself. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Carolina,” Wash says, his voice heavy, low, “But you better figure out the difference between your enemies, and your friends.”

Once, he wouldn’t have needed to tell her that. He supposes they both have changed a hell of a lot more than he realized, after this long.

The gun feels twice as heavy where it’s at his side- no longer in his hand, but he feels its weight all the heavier after pointing it at her, making his way outside. He can hear Grif complaining loudly in the distance, and Sarge muttering as they head away, but it’s Caboose and Tucker he turns to, making his way to them, not missing how Tucker tenses, instinctively reaching for his gun but aborting the motion before it gets there. Wash doesn’t doubt he could still take them down if he needed to but now the idea is so far-fetched, so out there that he can’t even consider it, not really.

“I really wanted her to be a nice lady,” Caboose says suddenly, turning and giving Washington a once-over with his shoulders slumping just a little bit. “I thought she would be.”

“Don’t let it bother you,” he advises quietly, watching as Caboose sinks further into his armor, hunching over into it, playing with the line of his gloves like a sad puppy with a toy. I thought she would be. Wash wonders where he got that idea from- Delta, maybe. The AI no doubt had residual feelings left over from York, when they were partners, but it doesn’t really matter now.

Instead, he nods to their base, watching Tucker bump hard into Caboose to get him moving, and he knows now that it’s not a malicious gesture. He’d seen North and York do the same thing— hell, York had multiple times, back then, little bumps and taps here and there, the motion just shy of affectionate. “Come on, you two,” Wash murmurs, and feels Caboose watching him as he takes point back to base, suddenly feeling drained and tired beyond all reason, even if he knows why. He’ll check on the others, later, but for right now, he settles Tucker and Caboose down, shares some of the cookie stash he’d discovered with the latter, and just listens to Tucker rant, knowing he’ll get it out and be better for it.

When he leaves, he doesn’t watch his back; he knows they have it for him.

The realization of it doesn’t hit him until he’s halfway to where the Reds are, but right now, right here, he doesn’t need to. For all that they’re stubborn and idiots and they bicker like children sometimes, they’re his idiots, they’re his goddamn friends, and he’s not sure when that happened, but he knows he’s glad for it.


End file.
